


All Great Things are Simple

by lorata



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate History, Backstory, Dragons, Gen, Heroism, Yuletide, Yuletide 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2778671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorata/pseuds/lorata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart.”</i>
</p><p>---</p><p>  <i>“I am fastest,” Volly said, and he knew this was true. The other dragons told him so; no one was faster than Volly, not in the entire Aerial Corps. “We will save friends.”</i></p><p>--</p><p>Volly is a courier dragon, not a hero, until the day he's both. (Volly POV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Great Things are Simple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterhill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterhill/gifts).



> In the spirit of canon and for the sake of my sanity, historical events were used as a springboard, not a rulebook. I was also inspired by How They Brought the Good News From Ghent to Aix by Robert Browning.
> 
> Merry Yuletide, winterhill! I hope you enjoy. :)

The other dragons were talking amongst themselves, lying on the ground with their bellies full and happy after a nice meal of cow and sheep. Volly had a whole sheep all to himself, fresh and warm and tasty, and the bones went crunch-crunch-crunch between his teeth and the blood sat hot and comfy inside him and everything felt nice and soft and calm.

“After what happened at Fleurus?” said Laety, her scales glittering red-gold in the setting sun, bright and shiny like jewels. She scraped her talons across the ground. “They rolled up the Austrians without so much as a by-your-leave, and now they’re halfway down the Rhine. I’ve seen this before, in the colonies. The humans didn’t take the American dragons seriously and now look where we are.”

Morty stretched out a wing, tips flashing gold. “St. Germain said they used a courier to spy on the troop movements,” he said. Volly liked Saingermy; she had a soft, round face and a lovely way of laughing. “That’s how they got word of what the Austrians were doing so quickly, they’re using their own beasts as spies. Can you imagine, sending a courier where it could be shot down?”

Volly’s ears pricked at the familiar word. “I’m a curr-er!” he said, excited. “Curr-ers bring news!”

The large dragons talked about big important things a lot of the time and Volly liked to listen — liked the rumbling of their voices, the way the sounds mixed and rolled together — but he didn’t always have something to say. But now he could contribute, another word that James (his captain, the best captain) had taught him that meant doing something important that helped other people. Volly liked to help!

“That’s right,” Laety said, and Volly wiggled happily. “They bring all sorts of news, and now, apparently, they’re bringing news of war. Portland says we’ve got to do the same.”

“I don’t like it.” Morty lashed his tail. Volly followed the movement, captivated by the swish-swish, swish-swish across the tops of the grass. “Courier breeds are small and skittish, and they don’t have combat skills besides. We shouldn’t be risking them like that, sending them right into the enemy’s fire. Across the lines to carry messages, that’s one thing, but what do you think Levitas would do the first time someone shot a cannon at him?”

“Fly right through it and bring his captain to safety, I should think,” said Exxum. He was old and very wise and had had _three_ captains, all named Roland. “Don’t sell the little ones short. They love their captains and they know their duty, same as anyone. Levitas would take a Defendeur-Brave’s tail right to the chest if he thought it would protect Rankin.”

Exxum’s voice dipped and went dark and rather angry at Rankin’s name, and Volly frowned. He was supposed to respect other captains, even if they weren’t best like _his_ captain, but Rankin smiled very wide and very much but never very deep. He brought Levi presents but he didn’t stay and tell him stories, not like James.

Rankin was not bad like the French — no one was bad like the French, not even Americans — but once Volly asked James if it was all right, if Rankin were ever very hungry, that Volly not have to share a sheep with him. James stroked Volly’s nose and said that he would never dream of asking.

“Well never mind Levitas then, but they’re not all like Levitas, are they? Volly here isn’t the only one a few cannons short of an arsenal. You can’t just give them orders to protect their captains and send them into danger like that,” Morty argued. “It’s not right! They’re not cattle, we can’t drive them to do things they don’t understand.”

“No one’s asking any dragon to do anything he doesn’t understand,” Laety said, using a nice calm voice, like the stroke of a captain’s hand across his dragon’s neck. “It will be up to the captains to accept, I’m sure, and they aren’t foolish like the Admiralty to think all of us have the same understanding of things. James will keep Volly on with dispatch service, and the ones who are able will go on patrol.”

Volly lost track of the talk after that, stuck on the word ‘patrol’. He liked the sound, strong and important like drumbeats with that nice steady ‘roll’ sound. He let the other dragons talk, curling up to sleep and letting the word turn over in his mind, _patrol patrol patrol_. He didn’t mind danger, even if he didn’t want to argue with Morty; danger didn’t matter when Volly had his duty. Duty, the others had explained to him, was very important.

He made up his mind to ask James about it later, then tucked his head into the crook of his foreleg and went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Are we flying again?” Volly asked when James came back from the camp with his bags slung over his shoulders. He butted his head into James’ shoulder, nearly knocking him over sideways, to see if his captain had hidden any presents, but today James only laughed and shoved him back.

“Oh yes,” James said, grinning wide. “Rise up, you big lump, I can’t get at your belly-rigging with you hunched down like that.”

Volly stood up on his haunches and let James arrange the bags. “Where now?” he asked, craning his head down and trying to peer at what James was bringing with him. They’d flown from England to one of the British camps in Austria to deliver mail to the fighting troops, and the soldiers had been very pleased to get their letters. Volly liked dispatch duty, making people happy and sharing good news, and he didn’t want to go back to England just yet.

“Halifax,” James said, and Volly shook his wings and dropped back down on all fours with an excited wiggle. Halifax! Volly loved listening to the Halifax dragons talk, with their queer accents and long ‘o’ sounds that he liked to imitate until James begged him to stop. “Yes that’s right, hot springs and seal meat in Greenland for you, if you’re good and don’t pretend your wings are freezing off so the locals will give you more food.”

Volly stretched out one wing and examined the tip, buffing the edge of his foreclaw against his harness and ignoring James if he was going to be so silly.

“This is so much better than the Navy, even if you are very stubborn and don’t listen to me,” James said, stroking Volly’s neck. “If I were in the Navy I might just have become a midshipman, if I had a captain who didn’t care about rank or family, and couldn’t even apply for lieutenant until twenty. Who knows when I might be captain, if ever. But here we are, going off to Greenland and Halifax on our own and me a captain of two years already!”

“My captain,” Volly said, curling around him. He didn’t like talk of James in the Navy, or being a midshipman anywhere else. James was _his_ captain, not some silly boat. Boats didn’t even have feelings! Let them have other captains.

“Yes, yes, I am your captain,” James said. “I’ve never liked ships anyway. Anything smaller than a dragon transport makes me frightfully ill. Flying is much better.”

Just then the sound of wingbeats cut the air, hard and desperate and failing. Volly wrapped himself tighter around James in case it was an enemy, peering up into the sky, but then he caught the flash of grey and white, just like him.

“Loxy!” Volly cried out, standing up, and James pulled free and ran forward as the other dragon hit the ground hard, sides heaving and all over blood. “Loxy’s hurt!”

Captain Meeks tumbled down to the ground, kneeling by Loxy’s head. “We were on our way back when a damned Petit Chevalier caught us,” Meeks said. “Celoxia took a hit, the bastard clawed her all along her side, but she went up into the clouds and lost it, bless her. I nearly passed out for having nothing to breathe but we made it, her bleeding all the way.”

“I thought you were on the dispatch route, not the front lines,” James said. “How did you run into a heavyweight?”

“That’s just it,” Meeks said. “There shouldn’t be, but there was, and it’s heading for our men along the Rhine. It was part of a formation, I saw when it wheeled away; the French are bringing reinforcements, and our troops will be routed if they’re not warned. They’ll come up behind the Vosges and our men will never see them in time. Someone needs to go, someone fast.”

James shook his head, face pale. “All the dragons cleared for battle dispatch are already out. There’s no one here who could bring a message to French territory fast enough.”

“Damn it, boy, are you on a Greyling or aren’t you?” Meeks exploded, and Volly reared back, spreading his wings over James and dragging him back. How dare anyone shout at James like that! “I can’t waste time arguing! Go and fetch Celoxia a surgeon while I write up my report for you, and then you must go to the battlefield and warn Obversaria.”

“But Volly isn’t —“

“I can do it,” Volly said, interrupting, and James spun around to stare at him. “Can!”

“Volly —“

“Duty,” Volly said, looking down at James, and his captain let out a breath and rested his forehead against Volly’s neck. “Friends in danger! I must warn friends. We must save friends!”

James swore under his breath. “All right then,” he said, swinging himself up onto Volly’s back. “Write that message quick, I’ll be back with the surgeon right off.”

“It’s good,” Volly said to James, reassuring. James’ hands pressed flat against his neck. “It’s good to help friends. It’s good to help England.”

“I know, damn it,” James said in a low voice. “I know.”

“I am fastest,” Volly said, and he knew this was true. The other dragons told him so; no one was faster than Volly, not in the entire Aerial Corps. “We will save friends.”

 

* * *

 

The wind whistled past them as Volly cut through the air. James liked to see how long Volly could fly without moving his wings but not today. Today they had a mission. Today they would save their friends. Today Volly beat the air with hard strokes and tore through the sky, and James ducked low and pressed his face into Volly’s neck. Normally he talked to Volly as they flew, laughing and joking and scolding if Volly rode an air current up up up and then plummeted to hear him shriek, but now they flew in silence.

For a long time Volly heard nothing but the whoosh of the air, the creaking harness and jingling carabiners, the light brush of fabric when James shifted behind him. Hours and hours and hours, over the mountains to the base of the big long river. The air turned dry on the far side of the mountains, with gusts of wind that hit him hard and sent him tumbling, but Volly pressed on, turning west toward France. It got better over the river, though Volly’s breath burned in his chest, the muscles in his shoulders ached, and he wished they could stop and take a drink but no no they had a mission. At last the low, rolling mountains, more like hills compared to the jagged, snow-covered peaks of the Alps, appeared in the distance.

“Almost there,” James said, and Volly put on another burst of speed. They crossed through the valley, and finally Volly caught the rumble of gunfire, quiet like far-off thunder then exploding into a furious patter, rifles sharp and quick and cannons booming. The roar of dragons, the call of signal-trumpets, men shouting orders. The air turned sour with gunpowder and blood, and something turned over inside Volly like a sleeper nudged half awake.

“We need to find Obversaria,” James called into his ear. “Move up, against the clouds so they can’t see you.”

Volly turned his head toward the sky and flapped his wings downward, pushing himself up toward the sun. Any dragon who tried to find him would be blinded by the sun; Celery had taught him that, and Volly liked to use that trick on the sheep in the field, darting down from the clouds and laughing when they bleated in terror before swooping back up.

“Circle round,” James called, his voice tight. “Why are there so many yellow dragons? I can’t tell the Anglewings from the Reapers from here!”

“Flag,” Volly said, heading around over top of the battle and dipping low to let James have a closer look before darting back up.

“What?”

“Flag!” Volly said again, insistent. “Versa has a flag! Look for a flag!”

“What — oh!” James leaned down close, wrapping his arms around Volly’s neck. “Oh, you’re right, Obversaria is the flag dragon! All we have to do is look for Lenton’s insignia.”

A warm glow spread through Volly’s chest for having helped, but he chased it away. Not important now; they still had to save their friends. He flew above the battle, twisting through the air, and finally James cried out. “There, there she is, near that Chanson-de-Guerre! Can you get me close enough to shout?”

James sounded frightened, his voice gone all high and his hands tight on the harness. Volly wanted to shout back that he didn’t need to be afraid, but it was more important to find Versa and send the message and so he dove instead.

A big dragon turned and snapped its jaws at Volly when he drew close, but Volly was fast, too fast for the big dragon, and he spiralled out of the way of the big teeth and flashing claws and laughed because the other dragon couldn’t catch him.

Except Volly might be fastest but Versa flew the best out of all of them, and she whirled into a circle and flung herself down to avoid an attack. She barrelled through a cloud of tiny blue dragons, and Volly tucked in his wings and dove down after her. “Versa!” Volly called, his words fighting to make it through the clamour. Time kept going — the sun had moved across the sky since they left the covert — and Volly had to give the message.

He darted in close, under the big dragon’s jaw where it couldn’t see him, and Versa startled, nearly dumping her crew if they hadn’t been strapped down. “Volatilus!” she snapped. “What are you doing here? Go back at once, you silly little thing!”

“Captain Lenton!” James shouted, voice cracking with the strain. “Sir, we have a message, there are more troops coming —“

Another large dragon — red, this time, roaring fire — sped toward them, and Volly dove to avoid the gusts of flame. The heat singed his tail and crackled the air around him, setting the trees below them alight — Volly coughed at the acrid dryness before he took in another full breath — and he craned his head around, taking them away from the danger. The tree branches snapped and fell to the ground in a crash. “James?”

“Fine, I’m fine,” James said, hair standing up and bits of ash stuck to his skin, but no blood. “Get back to Obversaria, I need to tell her —“

Versa pulled back from the battle, twisting out of the way of a small striped dragon and lashing out with her talons to rake it across the side. Then Nitty dashed in from the side and barrelled right into the fire-breather, clamping onto its throat with his smaller jaws and holding on even as it shook him. Volly followed Versa out of range, and Dulci came with them, claws and teeth dripping blood as she flew back and forth, ready to drive away any attackers.

James delivered his message, and Captain Lenton swore. “Well done,” he said. “We’ll have to retreat, but thanks to you two it doesn’t have to be a rout.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Do you know where the reinforcements are coming from?” James told him. “Right. Volatilus, how are you managing?”

Volly swung back around. His stomach swirled a bit from having to fly in circles to keep talking, but this was important. “I’m fine,” Volly said. “Not tired.”

“I’m glad to hear that, because you have something very important to do,” Lenton said. “James, Volatilus, I need you to head back to the Rhine and find the nearest Allied garrison. Bring them back here, we’ll fortify along the east side and see if we can’t push the French back. We might lose this battle but we might stop them from coming over any further. Can I trust you with this?”

“I —“ James said, one hand against Volly’s neck.

“Yes!” Volly interrupted. “I can fly!”

“Good,” said Lenton. “Godspeed.”

 

* * *

 

They flew forever, and forever, and forever, except the sun didn’t move more than a few wing-breadths across the sky so it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. Volly’s wings grew heavier and heavier, and the world disappeared around him. Nothing but the sky around him and James’ hands on his neck and his captain’s voice in his ear saying _good Volly good Volly I’m proud of you good chap_ and the mission. Find friends. Help friends. After that he could rest.

“I’m going to drink all the coffee,” James said once. “Every pot of coffee. I’m going to drink it until it comes out my eyeballs. And I’m going to find the officer in charge of feeding and wrestle him until he gives you a cow all to himself.”

“Cow?” Volly asked, pricking up. He’d been flying with his eyes closed, letting James guide him, but now he struggled to open them and craned his head back. James smiled at him, hair mussed and face pale behind the thick goggles and the coating of dust and soot.

“A whole cow,” James said. “I don’t know what you’ll do with it, probably sleep for a week while you digest it like one of those big snakes in the colonies like they used to teach us about. As soon as we get there.”

Volly had never had a whole cow, though he’d asked some of the larger dragons what they tasted like and once or twice he was given a bite. Usually just the leg bits with the hard, crunchy hooves, but even that had been tasty, and not so fluffy as sheep. It might not be a bad thing to try, if they did save their friends after all.

At last Volly caught a flash of sunlight on metal down below, and he swung back around and circled the camp until James spotted the British flag. “Down, Volly, down at once,” he said, and Volly obeyed.

He waited until James scrambled down from his back, shouting for the nearest officer, and Volly wanted to stay awake to hear the message but everything was so heavy. His head pulled down toward the ground, his legs giving out underneath him, and he collapsed into a heap. Volly went to tuck his head under his wing to block out the sunlight but fell asleep before he managed.

 

* * *

 

He woke later, his head in James’ lap and James’ hand stroking soothingly across his scales. The scent of coffee curled in Volly’s nostrils, and he blinked and raised his head. “Safe?” he asked. “Friends are safe?”

“We gave our message,” James said, nodding and raising a metal cup to his lips, taking along sip and letting out a happy sigh. “What happens after that is up to them, but we gave the warnings in time.”

“Good,” Volly said. He nudged James with his nose. “Cow?”

James laughed and rapped Volly between the eyes. “I haven’t forgotten. I asked the quartermaster and he said he would find a cow for you, since you’re the hero of the day.”

Hero? Hero sounded strange. Heroes were big dragons, or the little ones who fought. Heroes came home all over blood and talking of victory. All Volly did was fly. But he did ever so want a cow, and so he only hummed and lowered his head again and did not argue.

“They want us to take messages to the battlefield and report on the enemy movements as well as dispatch,” James said. “Like Levitas. We’d still get to go to Halifax and the camps and the coverts and everything, but we’d also fly about and see if the French are planning to attack. What do you think?”

They’d flown into battle today, and for the first time Volly understood what the other dragons talked about when they came home and told their stories. He’d smelled the gunpowder, the blood, metallic and sticking in his nose; heard the screams and the booming cannon-fire and the sharp _crack_ of pistols. He’d seen the chaos of whirling dragons, felt the whoosh of wingbeats passing overhead.

And they’d saved their friends.

“Yes,” Volly said. “I want to help.”

“All right,” James said, and he bent and pressed a kiss to Volly’s brow after checking, furtive, to make sure none of the older captains were watching. “For now, sleep. You’ve had a beastly long day.”

Volly curled around his captain, inhaling the familiar scents of sweat and dust and leather. “Cow,” he reminded James, butting him in the side.

“After you sleep!” James scolded, poking him, and Volly huffed out a satisfied breath and let the soft sound of the wind rustling the tree branches lull him back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The Battle of Fleurus marked the first time the use of a reconnaissance balloon changed the outcome of a battle. With dragons being in common use, I figured they wouldn't have put much effort into aerial technology, hence the use of couriers.
> 
> The Battle of the Vosges actually didn't involve British forces, but given Britain's greater ground presence thanks to the Aerial Corps I decided to make them a part of it.
> 
> Thank you winterhill for the fantastic prompt!


End file.
